La Femme Fatale
by mosaic23
Summary: I fell in love with the man I was hired to assassinate.
1. Chapter 1

_Lessons- SOHN_

They say you should start your story at the beginning. But my story starts at the end. After five years of running from myself, my demons, and the people who were trying to kill me, I was finally free.

* * *

I looked at the black and white picture, studying the contours and angular features of his face. He was gorgeous. I wasn't looking forward to having to put a bullet between his eyes. Those haunting, soulful eyes that sent involuntary shivers down my spine whenever I gazed at them. Even through a colorless picture he still came to life, haunting my thoughts.

The stalking didn't help either. Never in my experience had I had such a strong reaction towards one of my targets. Not even when I walked up to Senator Lincoln and shot him at point blank range did I react. It was just another job, another payday. And another chance to outrun my enemies.

Turning my attention back to the scope set up in the window of the unfinished high rise, I watched the figure of Christian Grey face around his office, slamming his hands on his desk as he berated a brunette woman. I pulled away and flipped through the pages of my Moleskine notebook, finding her picture.

 _Leila Williams, Submissive #14_

Laughing to myself as I scanned the page of notes, I realized he was a creature of habit. All of them usually were. He was a control freak and as I looked through the scope again, I couldn't help by clench my thighs together at the sight of him fucking Leila Williams' mouth.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Turning my attention back to my notes I quickly studied the thirteen other women I had managed to track down and photograph. All of them were brunettes with light eyes, and I hoped that I could use this as my in. Just breaking into this construction site was a feat in itself- security was tight and Christian Grey seemed to be a huge fan of state of the art security systems.

I pulled out my laptop and turned on my portable wifi system. Thankfully, it was converting cell phone data into wifi, giving me more privacy and security than any other type of internet connection. I pulled up the more complete files I had stored on my portable hard drive, trying to figure out how and when all of these women were introduced to the elusive Christian Grey. His hermit-like habits didn't make my job any easier. A public execution would be easy enough if he ever went out for longer than five minutes.

Unfortunately, I had to scratch the idea of killing him while he was running. His security team was smart- running in two groups. And he ran early enough and in empty areas where the direction of a shot would be easily be determined, especially by the former Navy SEAL, Jason Taylor. Frowning, I realized I had no information regarding Christian's acquisitions of his submissives. I was missing something obvious and I was pissed off.

Sighing, I packed up the scope and tripod, my computer, and notebook. Rain was starting to fall over Seattle and my visibility would be drastically reduced. Plus, I didn't need to torment myself anymore, watching him fuck another girl.

I slipped out of the construction site through the empty drainage system that led out into the main sewage system. The first time I had walked along side the current of rushing waste I vomited and vowed never to use the bowels of a city to move around. Unfortunately, it was the best option and I held my breath as I exited through a service door. No one noticed as I slipped out into an alley between two buildings.

Seattle was one of my least favorite cities. Granted, my stakeout spot was one of the best I had found in years, but the weather was making it tough to do the around the clock reconnaissance work I was used to.

Strolling into the cafe, I quickly paid for an English Breakfast tea and sat down. As a force of habit, I found a table against a wall, and made sure I sat with my back to it. I had a good vantage point of everyone in the cafe and I made sure I took note of the faces of all of the seated patrons, scanning for anything out of the ordinary before settling and making myself comfortable. I spotted him easily.

"Princess," he said, smoothly pulling out the chair across from me.

"Were you followed?" I asked tightly. I hated meeting him in public. It was too risky, like he was deliberately putting me in a dangerous situation so I would get the job done faster.

He scoffed at my question, lacing his fingers together. "What am I, an amateur?"

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of tea. "I think I found an in."

His eyebrows raised. He was surprised. "Already? It's been four days."

I shrugged. "Tell him that I'm working on it."

He nodded, biting his lip. "You always surprise me."

I smiled blandly. "I know."

"The police found your calling card on the senator. We'll drop off the cash," he whispered quickly, his blue eyes boring into mine. A long time ago, I would have been mesmerized and I would have allowed myself to be caught in his gaze.

"Good," I said evenly, taking another sip of the scalding tea. I had to leave my calling card. otherwise I wouldn't get paid. It was a simple system and it worked. The police thought they were tracking a serial killer at first, but it was clear as the bodies with the same blue stamp on their necks were piling up that I was contracted killer. I had been profiled as a man, based on my killing techniques and that gave me the best cover I could hope for. There was no way I could be mistaken for a man without dressing up for it. "I'll see you later."

He nodded and stood up, hesitating for a second before striding out of the coffee shop without looking back.

I sighed and slumped against the back of my chair. As the number of kills reached double digits, my boss was becoming more and more impatient for me to move on to the next target. The faster I worked each target, the faster they expected me to be finished. And I couldn't lie to Ethan. He knew how to read me like a book. I still hated myself for making that mistake.

I grabbed my tea, knowing that I wouldn't get any work done in this cafe. It was too exposed for my paranoid mind and I couldn't focus.

Walking was not a leisurely activity for me. I always felt eyes on me, whether it was someone just glancing or happening to look my way, it set off alarm bells in my head. I sped up, taking a different path towards the motel I was staying in, looping back and doing a heat run before ducking into the entrance and bolting through the small office towards my room.

I locked the door, shoving my trusty doorjamb in place and checking it before taping the curtains closed so they wouldn't move. I wasn't taking any unnecessary risks. Ethan would do that for me. I grabbed the orange bottle of Xanax, taking one in the hopes it would calm my nerves enough to let me sleep for at least four hours. Waiting for it to kick in, I set up my computer on the beat up desk.

Computers had always been objects of interest for me. When I was little I was fascinated by keyboards. I sighed as I remembered my father's instructions.

"Computers will be really important when you get older, Annie. If you know how to manipulate software or break things virtually, you'll be able to access anything."

For me, at the age of five, I was fascinated. As I got older, Raymond Steele taught me everything he could. When I had surpassed him in skill, I had devoured books on theory and codes, growing and learning as the internet grew at an exponential rate. But it wasn't until a few years ago I revealed my skill my boss.

I cracked my fingers, and logged onto the main Grey Enterprise Holdings, Inc. website. I frowned as I pulled up the IP address, realizing that it was blocked. Rolling my eyes, I knew I was underestimating Christian Grey. he was up to date on anything technical- hell hacking into the camera system and putting the tapes on a sporadic loop to erase my presence took me a few days of running constant programs to jump through his firewalls. This CEO wasn't like any other targets I had ever tried to hack before.

I felt calmer, slightly drowsy and I let the program run, pulling off my jeans and shoes and climbing into the bed, hoping for a few peaceful hours of sleep that wouldn't be interrupted by blood and screaming.

The pinging sound roused me from my fitful sleep. I was drenched in the familiar cold sweat, but somehow, every time I woke up, I was shocked by it. My computer screen was flashing and I hopped out of bed. Grinning at the eight digits at the bottom of the screen, I finally had the IP address. I checked the time, thankful that I hadn't slept longer than six hours. It wasn't healthy, but I needed to make the most of the time I had. Especially if I wanted to settle into this kill without rushing it.

I changed into long athletic leggings and hoodie before pulling my hair into a messy ponytail. Running around a city at midnight wasn't the best of idea for a woman, but I wasn't exactly an average woman. Just to be sure, I tucked my taser into the back of my leggings before stashing my computer under my bed and locking the room before tying the key to my shoe with the shoelace.

I set a fast pace, heading towards the apartment building, Escala. Christian was a creature of habit and this was one he wouldn't break. I spotted his secondary security team running about a block in front of me, and I knew they were going to loop back around. I began to cut through an alley, frowning when spotted the fence. I really wasn't in the mood for climbing, but this was a perfect opportunity. Quickly scaling the metal and braced myself as I jumped down, ignoring the sting of pain on the soles of my feet from the impact. I ran forwards, reaching the end of the alley, listening. I was pleased that they hadn't rounded the corner, giving me some time to get into position.

I ran to the corner of that block and waited around the corner, listening for him to approach. Bracing myself, I started jogging in place to keep warm and to make my sudden appearance seem more natural. Hearing the heavy footfalls, I sped round the corner and straight into the hard body of Christian Grey.

 _ **This idea has been bouncing around in my head for months, and I finally wrote it down. Please let me know what you think and if I should continue! HEA (don't worry).**_

 _ **Find me on Facebook: Mosaic Twenty-Three**_

 ** _There's a link to my Pinterest page on my profile and I just started a board for this story!_**

 ** _Also please check out my other stories, The Jungle and The Ride if you like the crime/romance/drama stories!_**


	2. Chapter 2

_In for the Kill (Skream's Remix)- La Roux_

"Shit!" I swore loudly as I felt the sharp pain in my wrist as I fell onto the cold, damp sidewalk. I knew from the telltale snap, that my left wrist was broken. Shit.

"I'm so sorry!" Christian exclaimed. He ran a hand through his bronze hair, crouching down to check on me. The pictures and the voyeuristic stalking I had done didn't do him justice. "Are you alright?"

His voice was cultured and smooth, deeper than I had expected, but it still caused a shiver to run down my spine. I shouldn't be reacting to him like this. I winced as the sharp pain began to shoot up my arm.

"I, uh, think it's broken," I said, lamely holding my rapidly swelling wrist in between us. In the light from the street lamp above us, I could see that it was already becoming discolored and bruising badly.

"Fuck," he said, exhaling and waving someone forwards. I spotted Jason Taylor looking at me with a polite disinterest. "We need to go to a hospital."

I groaned internally. I knew it was the only option, but there would be a record. And if anyone was running checks on my name they could easily figure out which hospital I was at. But more importantly, what kind of injury I had suffered. It was risky, but I had no other options.

Looking back up at Christian, whose grey eyes were full of concern, I felt my breathe hitch as he helped me to my feet. My body was tingling from the sensation of his touch, and I swallowed thickly.

 _Focus, Ana. Breathe. He's your target. Breathe. Focus._

I was slightly shaky as I stood next to him. "Taylor, go and get the car. We'll walk back towards you."

Taylor the SEAL gave a curt nod, his eyes sweeping over me, still slightly suspicious. If Christian didn't have the extra security team that was standing behind us, I would have agreed that Christian's order was stupid.

"What's you name?" he asked politely, walking very close to me, making my body hum. I needed to get over this shit before it put me in more danger.

"Anastasia," I said. There was no risk in giving him my real name. I had a whole identity set up and it was completely airtight. Thanks to Ethan's father of course. Everything in my world came at a price.

"Well, Anastasia," he said, causing my heart to flutter as his voice caressed my name. "My name is Christian Grey."

I nodded, figuring it was the best response. As a supposed photojournalist, I was supposed to know exactly who he was. Frowning as we kept walking, I realized that my false profession might be a detriment. Usually it gave me access to officials and politicians, but in this case, I had a feeling it would be a problem considering Christian's hermit-like ways. "I know who you are."

He grimaced. "What do you do?"

"I'm a photojournalist. I focus on international events and spreads, but I'm technically freelance. I have a contract with Kavanaugh media, but it allows me to be published by anyone," I explained. "I'm only Seattle for a few months."

He nodded, still looking conflicted. "I'm going to have you ask you to sign an NDA."

I shrugged. I wasn't surprised. "That's not a problem."

He looked slightly surprised. "Aren't you supposed to be a journalist? Isn't pushing me part of you job?"

I gave him a wry smile. He was just as arrogant as I had expected. "You're not my project."

A black SUV pulled up besides us and Taylor hopped out, opening the door for us. I slid into the back seat after Christian, as the woman from the secondary team climbed in next to Taylor. I froze when Christian began to buckle me up. My hand was throbbing and I was thankful for the oxycodone I had taken earlier. It dulled some of the pain.

Constantly being around death makes you numb inside- eventually. But the numbness only last for so long before the waves of guilt and loneliness crash onto you, knocking you down. It's hard to have a heart when you've stopped so many yourself.

We all have demons. I just chose to feed mine.

The car was silent as we sped through the damp, dark streets of downtown Seattle towards the hospital. I was correct in assuming we would be going to Seattle Grace. My mental map of the city hadn't failed me yet. Taylor pulled into the emergency drop off area and Christian escorted me inside and to one of the desks. After checking in, I knew I would be resigned to a long wait considering I wasn't particularly distressed. I knew Christian was watching me closely as I sank onto one of the hard plastic chairs.

"You don't have to stay," I said.

"I have nothing better to do. Are you sure you're not in too much pain?" he asked again. I bit my lip and his eyes darkened considerably. Interesting.

"I'm fine," I said, gritting my teeth. I knew that my oxy high would begin to wear off soon and I wasn't looking forward to having to face two potentially broken bones without any pain killers. I needed them to survive during the day- how was I supposed to survive physical pain without them?

I closed my eyes and rested my head on my good hand.

"I got you some ice," Christian said, gently placing a bag of ice on my wrist before sitting back down next to me.

"Thank you."

"You know it's not safe to be running alone at night," he said. Despite his soft tone, he sounded extremely domineering.

"I know," I said, still burying my head.

"I hurt you unintentionally. What if I had been someone who was trying to hurt you?" he asked, much more harshly. I wanted to laugh. He had no idea that the people who wanted to kill me would have killed me hours ago. If they knew where I was.

Before he could jump down my throat again, I pulled my taser on him. "You'd be dead."

His eyebrows were raised, and his mouth was slightly open in shock. I knew I had a fast draw, but I felt sluggish, surprised I even managed to surprise him. Regaining some composure, he shrugged. "I'm not joking, Anastasia."

I raised an eyebrow, putting my taser back. "Neither was I."

He frowned. I raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him again. Nearly every woman in his life was subservient or didn't call him out. I had to be different, but still familiar if I wanted to get close to him. It was a game- how to be familiar but different enough to be interesting. Thankfully, I didn't have to dye my hair pink this time.

"Anastasia Steele?" a nurse called out. I rose to my feet, my hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline that was still present in my system.

"I'll be here," Christian said, tapping away on his Blackberry as the nurse escorted me down the corridor to the emergency room.

I'd broken bones before and I wasn't surprised when the doctor informed me that I had fracture both bones in my arm. He set the bones and wrapped me efficiently in a cast, handing me a prescription for codeine. It wasn't oxy, but there was no way I was going to miss the opportunity to get my hands on any type of narcotic pain medicine.

True to his word, Christian was still sitting when I emerged from the room an hour later.

"Where can we take you?" he asked, escorting me towards the waiting car.

"The motel off fifth," I said, buckling myself up before Christian could touch me again. If I was reacting to him like this, I didn't need to get in any closer. I had never reacted like this to any other targets before.

Taylor pulled the car to a spot, and just as I was about climb out, Christian grabbed my good arm. "You're staying here?"

The distaste in his tone was easy to pick up on. I rolled my eyes and pulled out of his grip. "In Syria, this would be luxury accommodation. I'm a simple girl, Mr. Grey."

His eyebrows raised. "You were in Syria recently?"

I nodded. _Not to take photos, though._

"Wow," he said, clearly not expecting my answer.

"Have a good morning," I said, climbing out before he could stop me. It was just past three am and I would have five hours before I had to up again.

My arm was throbbing and I was on edge as soon as I locked myself in my room. I had to be much more vigilant this time. One cursory search of my name would show exactly what city I was in. I popped another Xanax into my mouth and another oxy, and waited for sleep to claim me.

I woke up screaming. Catching my breath, I frantically looked around me, finally realizing I wasn't in my childhood home, covered in my parents' blood. Glancing at the bright red numbers on the alarm clock, I realized I had overslept.

I changed quickly, wiping down my body with a damp towel instead go showering. The cast on my wrist was going to be the death of me. I could only hope it wouldn't be literal.

Sneaking into the construction site took longer, especially trying to pull myself out of the sewer one handed. At least it was my left arm that was broken.

I set up my scope and waited.

I glanced through the scope again, spotting Leila in Christian's office. He was no where in sight, and I trained the scope on his office door. He walked inside and paused, watching Leila as she sank to her knees. I rolled my eyes, knowing what would transpire between them, but Christian had pulled her to her feet. She was crying and trying to pummel her fists against his chest. He looked murderous, nearly shaking her as his mouth moved, like he was yelling at her. This was exactly why I wished I had bugged his office.

She scuttled out of the office, her head down, probably crying. Christian poured himself a drink and sat down behind his desk, looking like he was trying to calm down. His office door opened and a blonde woman walked in. Christian greeted her, but she quickly turned her back to me. There was something familiar about her, and I frantically flipped through my notebook, trying to find out why I recognized her.

Turning back to the scope, I watched as she sat across from Christian. She set up a voice recorder and I sighed, realizing she was a reporter. After a few minutes, she turned her head and I froze. She looked directly at the scope and my heartbeat picked up. Katherine Kavanaugh was about to take Christian out. She flashed me a smile, letting me know she knew exactly where I was and that I was watching.

I quickly pulled up the security mainframe of Grey House on my computer, typing as fast as I could with one hand. Glancing back through the scope, Katherine's hand was in her purse and I sent the code, praying it would cause all of the fire alarms to go off. I couldn't tell if it had worked, but much to my relief, Taylor burst into Christian's office, ushering him out. Katherine looked at me again, frowning. It was game on.

Sighing in relief, I quickly packed everything up, ready to move. Katherine was inexperienced and I really didn't want to play this game with her. I was surprised her father had put her in this position, hiring her as one of the multiple contractors for this job. He should know better.

Generally, once a target was selected, multiple contractors would be contacted. This created a competitive atmosphere, motivating one of us to make the first kill. That person would get to cash in. But, it also encouraged us to kill each other. I once had to take out six other contractors before I could take out my target. And if someone as inexperienced as Katherine was sniffing around Christian Grey, I knew her father, Eamon, had to have hired others. I had to watch my back.

 ** _Well, I was not expecting such an incredible response! Thank you so much to everyone who followed, favorited, and left encouraging reviews for this story! I'm completely blown away!_**

 ** _Yes, I changed the title. I'll also be adding a song for each chapter (just because I love music)._**

 ** _Check out my other stories if you like the suspenseful/crime/romance genre: The Jungle and The Ride_**

 ** _There's a link to my Pinterest board for this story on my profile or search /mosaic23/_**

 ** _Find me on Facebook! Mosaic Twenty-Three_**

 ** _I love interacting with you guys so please let me know if you have any theories, comments, or questions!_**


	3. Chapter 3

_Day is Gone- Noah Gunderson and The Forest Rangers_

 **A very special thank you to my plot beta, or plot magician,** ** _Khyio Gizele_** **, who helped me realize that killing off a main character in the third chapter would have ended this story and who listened to my rambling ideas!**

Slipping back into the temporary sanctuary of my motel room, I sat down at the desk, pulling out my computer, groaning when I saw that my hack into the security systems of Grey House had failed. At least fate was on my side to get Christian out of the office.

I sat back in the rickety chair, trying to regroup. Kate knew where my stakeout spot was, but she didn't know where I was currently located. She would have knocked on my door by now. I didn't want to have to reach out to Ethan and let him know that Kate was also on Christian's tail. As far as I knew, he, my handler, was in the dark too. But Eamon wasn't. And that's what scared me. Eamon had told me the last time we met I was his most valuable asset. Apparently, I was stupid enough to think that translated to: we won't send any other assassins after your targets.

I frowned and ran a hand through my hair, sighing when strands got caught on my cast. I was weak, I was being followed, and someone was trying to take my target out from under me, without killing me first. Popping one of the prescribed codeine pills, I began to run a trace on the last assassin that tried to kill me. I knew he was still alive- I never had the chance to kill him before killing my target.

If Jose Rodriguez was on the same trail as Kate, that meant she was also in danger. After her brazen attempt to attack Christian, especially that obviously, she painted a huge target on her back. Even though she was my competition, I needed to talk to her before pulling the trigger. Something bigger was going on, and I needed to find out what it was before it could kill me. I never expected to have to try and protect one of my competitors.

The trace was loading, and it was a long shot- trying to track the last pseudonym he used. I wrapped my cast in a plastic bag and hopped into the shower, hoping that the hot water and codeine would calm me.

Wrapping myself in a holy towel the motel provided, I raced out of the shower as my phone chimed. Flipping the untraceable phone open, I saw I had a text from Ethan. He wanted to meet. I ran back into the bathroom and began to dry my hair. The last thing I needed was to get sick from not taking care of myself. Pulling on a pair of black jeans, a black shirt, and a black coat, I shoved my laptop and notebook into my backpack before grabbing my umbrella and heading out the door.

I walked quickly, trying to put as much distance between me and my sanctuary as quickly as possible. I felt like a sitting duck, and now with only one arm, I really was prey.

Walking into the coffee shop, I saw Ethan sitting at the same table as last time. I frowned when I realized he was sitting with his back to the wall, purposely putting me in the position of being exposed. Ethan had known me for years, since I was eighteen, and he knew turning my back to potential threats would rile me up. What game was he playing?

"Relax, Princess," he said, taking a measured sip of tea as I sat down. "You really think that one of these hipsters is going to shoot you?"

I frowned and glanced over my shoulder again. "I'm not sure I can count of anything anymore. I feel like I've bitten off more than I can chew."

Ethan nodded towards my cast. "Going to a hospital was very risky."

"I didn't have much of a choice," I said. "It was my in."

Ethan pursed his lips. He looked unhappy. "Yes, and apparently you're not the only one who has found one."

I raised an eyebrow. "You think I don't know that? Stop treating me like an amateur."

He rolled his eyes, taking in my appearance. I felt his eyes run over my arm, back to the bags under my eyes. "I'll stop treating you like an amateur when you start taking better care of yourself. Do you need some more Xanax?"

Before I could answer him, he slipped an orange prescription bottle into my hand. I frowned as I shoved it into my pocket. "Have you heard anything about Jose Rodriguez?"

Ethan's blue eyes flashed with worry as his mouth set in a hard line. "I can call Dad and ask."

I nodded. If Rodriguez was in town, I needed to act quickly. I should never have left him alive the last time we crossed paths. "Have you heard from your sister?"

He shrugged. "You know what she's like. Last I heard she was chasing a low-level target in the Bahamas."

I nodded. I bit my lip wondering if I should tell Ethan that his sister was in town. But until I had more information on the other contractors in the area, I had no way of really keeping her safe. "Let me know if you hear from her."

He nodded, looking slightly confused. We left the coffee shop. He grabbed my arm before I could walk away. "You know I can help you."

I nodded before turning around and walking in the other direction. Once upon a time, Ethan's declaration of loyalty would have made me swoon, would have made me fall for him. He was the one who had called me Princess, my code name, after Princess Anastasia- the last of the Russian royals. But now, I wasn't sure I could even trust him. He was supposed to be my handler, the one person I could trust unwaveringly. But as usual, the arrival of his twin sister complicated everything.

"Ow! Fuck!" I swore as I found myself sprawled on my ass, on the cold concrete once again. I looked up to see who knocked me off my feet and rolled my eyes when the hauntingly familiar grey eyes met my own.

"Shit! Anastasia! Jesus christ, I'm so fucking sorry!" Christian said, flustered beyond belief and crouching down immediately to see if I was alright.

"Can you please stop bulldozing into me whenever we cross paths? I really need at least one working arm," I snapped, but letting the hint of a smile appear on my lips. He glanced at me nervously, visibly relaxing when he saw me smile. He ran a hand through his tousled bronze hair, letting his shoulders drop as the tension left his body.

"I am so sorry," he said again, helping me to my feet. I tried in vain to ignore the tingles that shot through my body when his strong hands maneuvered my body.

"It's alright, Christian," I said with a gentle smile. "Anyone else would have sued you."

His eyes lit up with humor and he smirked. "Yes, you're probably right."

Biting my lip, I nodded. Like last time, his eyes flashed towards my mouth and his eyes darkened. He was so much fun to play with. "Well, I need to get going. Take care, Christian."

I turned to walk away. "Anastasia!"

"Yes?" I asked, turning back around.

"Thank you," he said, slightly breathlessly. He looked nervous. "Would you allow me to make it up to you?"

"Make what up to me?" I asked, playing dumb. My plan was working perfectly.

"Your broken arm, the fact I crashed into you again," he said. "Dinner?"

I grinned, and he smiled, still looking slightly wary. "I'd love that, Christian."

He nodded, seemingly thrilled at my response. "How's tonight?"

I smiled softly. "Perfect. Pick me up at seven."

He grinned, and nodded. I turned and walked away, fighting to keep the ridiculous grin off of my face. I should not be this excited about meeting with a target. I was getting in too deep and it was getting risky. I needed to regain control of my emotions.

My phone started ringing and I quickly pulled it out, snapping it open when I saw it was Ethan.

"Rodriguez is in town," he said.

"Shit," I responded, exhaling heavily. "Thanks, E."

"Keep in touch," he said softly, like he didn't want someone to overhear the last part. I snapped the phone shut and took off at an easy jog back towards the motel. If Ethan knew he was in town, my computer would be able to find him and tack him.

Sweating profusely once I reached my room, I quickly fired up my laptop, running a check on his name. I dove under the bed and pulled out the rifle case, and empty violin case. I quickly began cleaning and checking the rifle and scope before packing it in the violin case. I stuck a silencer in too, for good measure. I paused when I looked at the clip of blue bullets, opting for the standard ones instead. No one needed to know that I was the one who made the kill. Hell, Jose Rodriguez was the only contractor who actually know my identity. Only the bosses really knew my name, but even then, it was mostly speculation. The only reason Rodriguez hadn't alerted the police was because of the bounty on my head. I hadn't checked in a while, but the last time I did, my body was worth two million. Blue bullets would just lead to more unanswered questions. And it wasn't like Rodriguez was an intended target I needed to mark with my signature.

My computer chimed, the map flashing with a red circle pinpointing Jose Rodriguez's cell phone. I groaned when I realized that he was hovering in the cafe across the street from Grey House. I'd have to find another spot to shoot from. My usual stakeout spot wouldn't give me the right view. I had to get to the roof of Grey House.

I quickly pulled two screens: the security system of the stairs and the security camera video feed for the roof. There was a helicopter pad, but due to the weather, no one would even dream of flying a helicopter.

I grabbed a blank RFID card and the scanner I used to program it. I quickly figured out the passcode for the service entrance to Grey House and was pleased to find out that the cameras that covered the entrance were not as heavily protected as the other cameras inside the building. The door to get to the emergency stairwell required an RFID card, and that was easy enough to program once I accessed the code. I could trip the security cameras for the stairs easily from my tablet. I quickly ran through the security main frame to see if I was forgetting anything. Gaining access to the roof was easy- most people wanted to break into the building, not go to the roof. I repacked my backpack, and hid the empty rifle case back under the bed. I grabbed a Marlins baseball cap and tied my hair back, before throwing my favorite pair of leather gloves in the bag too. An outside shot in a colder temperature was going to be much harder than I was used to. Especially since my left had would be out of commission to stabilize the rifle.

The walk back to Grey House was easy and I took time to calm myself. It felt good to be able to have Rodriguez as target practice before trying to take out my target. Any practice was good practice.

I slipped into the service entrance once I saw the red dot on the security camera turn off. The program was working and I was thrilled with that small victory considering setting off the fire alarms failed. The rest of the journey up the star was tough, and by the time I reached the top, I had stacked my shirt through with sweat. I checked my tablet to make sure that it was looping the security footage from the previous last half-hour over and over again, erasing any trace of my entrance into the building. With the program still running, I sat down on the edge of the building. There was a small wall, maybe two feet high that I could rest the edge of the rifle on. I saw the coffee shop in question and I quickly pulled out my binoculars, hoping that I could confirm that Rodriguez was inside.

I froze when I saw his companion. Rodriguez was smart, and I knew he was having coffee with Christian under the pretense of business. Frowning, I set up my rifle quickly, lying down on the hard, cold gravel. I watched the two of them through my scope, watching Christian look at Rodriguez with polite disinterest and how he constantly checked his phone, clearly not impressed with this meeting. They suddenly stood up and shook hands.

I began to steady my breathing and time my heart beats. I really didn't want to kill Rodriguez in front of Christian, but I had no choice. Maybe this would warn Christian. Maybe Christian would drop off the radar and I wouldn't have to kill him eventually. My hand started to shake, and I internally cursed at myself of not taking something before leaving the hotel.

Trying to calm my mind, I put the headphones in my ears, hoping that I wasn't too far out of range to hear their conversation through the long-range microphone I set up next to my rifle. Sighing, I was relieved to find out it was working. I was counting my breathes again as I listened to their conversation and watched it through the scope.

"Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Grey," Rodriguez said, shaking Christian's hand.

"Mr. Rodriguez," Christian said cooly, essentially dismissing him.

I exhaled, inhaled, aimed my scope at Rodriguez's head, exhaled and pulled the trigger.

I watched in horror through the scope as the lady behind him crumpled to the ground. I could hear my heart beating in my ears, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. People were screaming and I could hear Christian swearing as Taylor pushed him down to the ground, Rodriguez dropping too. I vomited the contents of my stomach out onto the gravel, watching my hands shake. I was stupid to think I could shoot with shaky hands and a broken wrist. Tears were streaming down my face as I watched through the scope as Rodriguez began to check the body.

"Leave her!" I heard Taylor command him. "This is a crime scene! Someone just tried to assassinate my boss."

"I need to find out what color the bullet was. And this was no attempt! This was a warning!" Rodriguez yelled, standing up and looking in my general direction. I knew that he spotted the rifle and through my scope I could see him work out the angle and look towards the side go the building that was behind the lady when I shot her. He traced the bullet hole on the wall, turning back around and looking in my direction again.

"Well, did you figure it out?" Taylor said. "It wasn't blue, was it?"

Shit, Taylor knew about me. Not me particularly, but the rumors of the blue bullets and blue stamps that appeared on high profile individuals. "It's standard."

Taylor nodded, handing Rodriguez his card. "You seem to know a lot about this. Call me."

I slumped against the small wall, and buried my head in my knees. Never, since I started this job, had I ever shot someone innocent. I never had any collateral damage. The people I killed were guilty of something, and at least I could justify killing them that way. This lady, she was innocent. It wasn't even like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I fucked it up.

Still shaking and crying, I covered my vomit with more gravel and quickly packed everything up. I began to frantically run down the stairs, only stopping at the bottom to wipe my eyes and pull on sunglasses. I slipped out onto the busy sidewalk, hoping to make it out of the area before the block was on lockdown. People were running, and I was running on adrenaline, following their lead and running out of the area, back towards my motel.

I slammed the door shut, and shoved the rifle back under my bed. I quit the program, allowing the security cameras to record normally, erasing any trace of my being at Grey House for good. I stopped out my clothes, hoping to scrub myself clean in the shower. I cleaned up my room, hiding anything that could be considered out of the ordinary, just in case the police came knocking.

The orange bottle of pills slipped from the pocket of my sweater and I picked it up, quickly swallowing three pills, washing them down with a mini bottle of vodka from the minibar. Sitting on my bed, naked, I began to cry, as the adrenaline left my body, leaving me to face the reality that I had killed an innocent woman. Everything began to grow fuzzy.

There was a loud pounding, followed by a crash. I tried to lift my head up, tried to make sense of my surroundings, but I was trapped. I wanted to yell out, to reach out but I was stuck- a prisoner in my own body. Everything was blurry, but I could hear muffled voices. Fighting against the darkness that kept flashing through my vision, I saw a trademark flash of bronze, hoping beyond hope that it was Christian.

 ** _The response to this story has been so overwhelming! The reviews, follows, and favorites have floored me- thank you to each and every one of you!_**

 ** _Please check out my other story, The Jungle, and the Pinterest board I have for this story (search /mosaic23/)!  
I'm also on Facebook: Mosaic Twenty-Three. _**

**_A very special thank you to my plot beta, once again, and the best Facebook group ever!_**

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 ** _Also check out the story I'm a beta for: Dark Side of Love by Philaenis_**


	4. Chapter 4

_Way Down We Go- Kaleo_

I was cold. I could feel my body shake as I tried to make sense of the wet and damp around me. As I struggled against the pounding in my head, my hands were suddenly covered in something slimy and cold. Using all of my strength, I tried to push myself into a sitting position, only succeeding in swaying and falling back onto the bed. Everything was blurry, fuzzy. I blinked rapidly, trying to regain some control over my body.

My stomach suddenly clenched and I felt a pair of hands forcefully turn me onto my side as I began to dry heave. My throat felt like it was on fire, but I didn't feel connected to my body. When I tried to move my head, to see who was holding me, I couldn't. I wanted to scream, to shout out. Anything to know that my body was still under my own control. But it wasn't.

I heard a harsh word slice through the ringing in my ears and I tried in vain to move my body.

After spending an eternity trying to get my eyes to focus on one thing in front of me, the picture became slightly more clear. I could slightly distinguish the stripes on the old wallpaper of the motel room. My head began to turn slowly, and I was able to see a pair of blue eyes looking down at me.

"Jesus Christ, Anastasia," Ethan seethed, letting me roll onto my back. His steady hands helped me sit up. Blinking and trying to get my eyes to adjust more, I glanced at my shirt, feeling a wave of nausea pass over me when I saw that I was covered in vomit and smelled the telltale scent of urine. It had been years since I overdosed like this. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

I bent my knees, resting my head, trying to slow down my racing heart. I had made it through the worst part- the seizure, the foaming mouth, the vomiting, the defecation, the uncontrollable movements, the hallucinations. _That explains the bronze hair._

"Here's what's going to happen, Princess," he said, lifting me out of the bed like a limp rag doll. "You're going to shower. I'm going to pack up your shit and flush all of the Oxy and codeine down the toilet. Then, you're going to stay with me at the Fairmont for the week to detox. We'll get your wrist put in a soft cast. You're then going to attend some Narcotics Anonymous meetings and after that, I'll give your your rifle back. Until you're completely clean, you'll be staying with me. Get in the fucking shower."

I had no energy to stand, let alone fight Ethan. I had officially hit rock bottom. Sitting under the warm spray, I watched as the chunks of vomit swirled down the drain. My clothes were soaked and a hand darted through the shower curtain and turned the water off. I heard the rattle of pill bottles and sucked in a breath when I heard them fall into the sitting water. The toilet flushed.

Ethan handed me a towel. "Once you're dry, I'll give you a Xanax. You don't get to self medicate anymore. Two months, then I'll leave you alone."

I nodded slowly, peeling off my wet clothes once he left the bathroom, leaving fresh clothes on the counter by the sink. I ran a brush through my hair, refusing to look in the mirror. My hands were shaking and I knew it was only a matter of hours before the rest withdrawal process would begin. I had dodged a major bullet by overdosing on Xanax and not Oxy. The Xanax had knocked me out through the worst part of the Oxy withdrawal.

Ethan handed me a bottle of Gatorade and watched me down the whole thing, before handing me one pill. I looked at the white bar before popping it in my mouth and swallowing.

"Let's go," Ethan said, grabbing the fake violin case and my duffle bag, throwing a stack of cash on the bed to cover cleaning, leaving me to grab my backpack and suitcase. I was trailing behind him as I climbed into the cab, sitting on my hands to keep them from shaking too much.

I closed my eyes, refusing to speak to Ethan for the entire ride to the upscale hotel. Helping me out of the cab, he whisked me past the front desk nodding at a woman who smiled flirtatiously at him. Despite having to run around after me, he still had the time to charm the pants off women. I leaned against the cool metal of the elevator.

"What happened, Princess?" he asked, softly. His eyes were hard but I could see the traces of concern as his eyes crinkled slightly.

"I shot a civilian. I missed Rodriguez again," I whispered, my throat sore and hoarse. Ethan frowned and nodded.

"I'll get Prescott on him," he said, ushering me out of the elevator and into a suite. The door shut and he locked it, before taking a deep breathe and turning to me. "My sister is in town."

I nodded. "I know. She's going after my target."

Ethan sucked in a harsh breathe. "Right now you don't have a target. If my father finds out about this, we both know he'll make me kill you. You cannot afford to be a loose cannon right now. I'll deal with Kate. My father didn't send her after Christian."

I blinked back the unexpected tears that started to fall. Running a trembling hand through my hair, Ethan looked at me and sighed. "I'll order some food. Then you're going to bed where you'll stay for the rest of the week."

"How many hours was I out?" I asked, biting my lip.

"About fifty," Ethan said, leading me into the bedroom. "And before you ask, I followed you to the motel. We both know I always know where you're staying."

I frowned, but flopped back on the bed. "I just want to be numb. I don't want to feel anymore."

I heard Ethan sigh and felt him sit down next to me. "Your humanity, your emotions are what make you so deadly. You feel the hurt of the target's victims."

I closed my eyes, refusing to fight against the sleep that was beginning to claim me again.

After another seventy-two hours of lying in bed, Ethan finally allowed me to get up by myself. My hands weren't shaking anymore and the psychosomatic pain I was feeling had dulled into a dull ache. A few more weeks and I wouldn't feel the ache at all. Seven more weeks and I wouldn't have to worry about relapsing everyday. The only risk in the coming weeks was suddenly feeling emotional pain at an elevated level. Ethan had religiously been monitoring my Xanax consumption and even asked if I wanted to try weaning myself off of it. I told him it wouldn't hurt to try.

I was slightly more keyed up than usual with less Xanax in my system, and I knew very soon I'd have to be battling my paranoia on my own. The sad thing was, the paranoia wasn't entirely in my head. Usually, it kept me alive.

"How are you feeling?" Ethan asked, folding up a newspaper as I slipped into the chair opposite him.

"I've been better," I said softly. "I'm really tired."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "You just put your body through hell. I'm surprised you actually want to get out of bed."

I shrugged. "I don't like not doing anything. It gives me time to think."

"Two meetings, then we go to the doctors to get that cast off and put you in a soft cast," he said, his blue eyes watching my reaction.

"Okay," I said, buttering up a piece of toast. Ethan looked surprised. I used to fight him tooth and nail, never letting him control anything. I didn't like him being involved in my job. But right now, I needed someone. This was his job after all.

"I'll drive you there," he said, finishing his coffee. "Then we need to talk about my lovely sister."

I nodded and made myself some tea from the hot water provided by the room service spread. When Ethan left the room to take a shower, I pulled out my laptop and decided to run a check on Prescott. If he was also in town I was surprised that he wasn't going after Christian. Maybe Eamon was telling the truth when he said I'd be the only one under his employment that would be targeting Christian. If Kate was acting on her own and Eamon didn't lie to Ethan, I was right that something bigger was going on. Ethan knew what was going on and I had my suspicions, but after the past week, I needed to learn to trust someone else.

Ethan dropped me off outside of the church and I made my way inside. I knew it was supposed to help, talking about this kind of thing, but I didn't want to reveal my issues to a bunch of strangers. My addiction didn't exactly stem from "normal" emotional trauma. But if I wanted to get out of this city with the largest pay day yet, I had to get Ethan on my side. And get my weapons back.

I sat uncomfortably in the cold metal chair, trying to block out the heartbreaking stories of those around me. I knew I was looking worse for wear. The curious looks the other participants were giving me scared me. I couldn't let their stories affect me. Right now, I had to focus on myself. It was a matter of staying alive. I left the room before the leader had finished the conclusion, before anyone could coerce me into staying or discussing sponsorship.

As I slipped into the taxi with Ethan, he sensed my stress and trepidation.

"How'd it go?" he asked quietly.

"Life fucking sucks," I huffed looking out of the window, earning a chuckle from Ethan. Rolling my eyes I continued. "I know I'm not normal, but some of that shit is so heartbreaking, Ethan. Seriously, I have no idea how those meetings can be seen as positive. They're soul-crushing."

He sighed. "Just one more to go."

"Thank God."

We pulled up to the valet box outside of the Fairmont and slipped out of the cab. Strolling through the lobby, I shoved my hands in the pockets of the black hoodie I was wearing. I knew wearing clothes like this was driving Ethan crazy since I wasn't blending in, but if he wanted to look after me, I would make him work. I glanced around the lobby doing a quick sweep out of habit, identifying the exits and the staircase. Letting my eyes sweep over the check-in desk, I spotted a very familiar head of bronze hair. My breathing hitched as I watched him turn around, his grey eyes serious as he conversed with Taylor the SEAL. I watched as the infamous Jason Taylor swept over the lobby with his eyes, spotting Ethan and myself. I gave him a small smile and he nodded, causing Christian to turn his head to the left and lock eyes with me.

I swallowed thickly as he began to walk over in even, measured steps, Taylor behind him. Ethan noticed I was no longer at his side and he turned around, walking back next to me. Shit. I needed to get this under control. If I let on that Christian was affecting me like this, Ethan wouldn't hesitate to tell Eamon and kill me himself.

"Anastasia," Christian said softly, kissing my cheek in greeting, placing a hand on my good forearm, causing a tingle to shoot up my spine. He pulled away, looking slightly confused, a slight flush on his cheeks. Willing my own blush away I smiled politely.

"Christian," I said, turning on the charm. "How are you doing?"

"Very well thank you," he said, pausing, realizing that asking me the same question would result in a resounding 'no'. His eyes flashed to Ethan who was standing closely behind me.

"Oh, Christian, this is Ethan Kavanaugh, my boss of sorts," I said introducing the two men. Christian nodded in greeting but his jaw was tight.

"Mr. Kavanaugh, it's nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Mr. Grey," Ethan said with a polite smile. I glanced up at Ethan questioningly.

"Our mothers' are quite good friends," Christian explained quickly.

I smiled. "Such a small world."

Christian nodded. "I thought you were staying at the motel."

It wasn't a question, but a very implicative statement. "Yes, the motel proved to be a little unsafe."

Christian quirked an eyebrow, looking slightly happier. "I had assumed as much."

Rolling my eyes, I chuckled. "Well, considering there were no RPGs exploding overhead, it was quite safe compared to what I'm used to."

Christian's eyes grew wide. Over his shoulder I saw Taylor fight back a smile, although he still looked at Ethan and I very shrewdly. I smirked at him, knowing that we were setting off alarm bells in his head he hadn't listened to since his military days.

"Christian, what are you doing here?" I asked, suddenly curious. Ethan vibrated with laughter at my blunt question and choked out a laugh at Christian's response of photoshoot.

"A photoshoot?" I asked, even more intrigued. "For what?"

Christian looked slightly perturbed at Ethan's laugh. "I had an interview with his sister a couple of weeks ago for her college newspaper and she wanted some photos to go along with the article."

I turned to Ethan and raised my eyebrows. "Ethan, I didn't know Katherine was a photographer. I thought she was strictly print journalism."

Ethan shook his head. "She's not. Who is the photographer?"

Christian frowned. "I think it was a Mr. Rodriguez?"

Taking a deep breathe I bit my lip. "He's a very good photographer."

"You know him?" Christian asked, even more interested.

I nodded. "He has very good aim with the focus. I'm familiar with quite a few photographers, Christian. It is my job after all."

He frowned slightly at my condescending tone. "Well, since you seem to be a good judge of his work, why don't you come along?"

I smiled. "I'd love to. I'm sure Ethan will want to catch up with his sister too."

Christian's smile slipped slightly as I invited Ethan along. But right now, the more people around Christian, the better. Another close protection officer, ex-Marine Luke Sawyer, stepped into the elevator with us. _Four people before they could get to Christian._

I followed the men into the suite, hanging back and hiding slightly behind Sawyer's hulking figure as Katherine and Rodriguez greeted Christian. Katherine was less than pleased to see her brother and I giggled, alerting the other two assassins of my presence in the room. I was slightly disappointed that they were good actors and could hide their surprise. I said a polite hello and settled myself on one of the couches, facing the white backdrop Christian would be photographed against.

Rodriguez began posing Christian as Katherine asked him some more questions in hopes of gleaning more information. I rolled my eyes at her amateur tactic of attempting to get someone to talk about their life. Flashing a dominant, one who had a predilection for petite brunettes, a view of cleavage was not going to work.

Ethan pulled out his phone, quickly stepping back from the group and away from the window he was leaning against. He glanced out of it, and suddenly the glass shattered and Rodriguez slumped on the floor, a pool of blood seeping into the beige carpet as his eyes turned glassy as he lay completely still. I barely registered Kate's scream as I threw myself over the couch, lying on the floor behind it. Taylor was on top of Christian and Sawyer was pointing a hand gun out of the window. I glanced at Katherine who was shaking slightly and raised an eyebrow at Ethan who simply mouthed 'Prescott'.

"Jesus christ," I muttered, picking myself up from the floor. Taylor got up off Christian and Sawyer jumped into action, shielding him as they left the room. Taylor glanced at Rodriguez's body before turning looking specifically at the bullet lodged in the wall. It was a clean shot right through his head, ear to ear. Prescott was good.

"Shit," Taylor muttered.

"What's up?" Ethan asked, stepping towards him.

Taylor said nothing, just watching Ethan. Great. The one time we need Taylor to be slightly cooperative, he was going to be anything but.

Katherine was watching this confrontation unfold, a light smattering of blood on her face. She was still shaking and I realized that she was reacting to this shooting very strangely.

I continued to watch her as Taylor pulled out his phone and called the police. He hung up before turning to face me.

"How are you so calm?" he asked softly, his eyes darting back to the shaking and shocked Kate who was staring at Rodriguez's body. I shrugged.

"It's not the first time I've been close to death, Taylor," I said casually.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, his hand slipping behind his back.

"I'm a journalist," I said simply. It was a very good answer, but I knew Taylor was having a tough time believing it.

Just as Taylor was about to respond, the door burst open and a police tactical team entered the room. We were lying on the carpet again while they secured the crime scene. Thankfully, they weren't interested in what I had to say, considering my answers were short and I deliberately made it seem like I was nothing more than a slightly shaken civilian.

My hands were shaking again as I sat on the couch, watching Taylor explain what had happened in detail with military terminology. Ethan glanced at me and slipped a bar of Xanax into my palm, nodding. I swallowed it quickly.

 ** _I am not worthy! Thank you so much for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites! A very special thank you to my amazing, incredible beta,_** ** _Khyio Gizele_** , **_for her unwavering support and hard work!_**

 ** _** I am not a mental health professional! I don't know much about addiction and withdrawals, but based on the research I've done, I've tried to write the scene as best I could. Oxy is a very powerful pain-killer, but like Xanax and alcohol, once you use it, you build up a tolerance to it. That's why it's such a dangerous prescription drug. It's also possible if you have been using it for years to be able to be a functioning addict if the doses are low. Mixing Xanax, a depressant, no matter what dosage size, with alcohol is extremely dangerous. In Ana's case, because of her tolerance she popped three and mixed that high dosage with alcohol, hence her "overdose" or "reaction". Also, can we suspend disbelief for these parts too?_**

 ** _FYI: I try to answer general questions in my author's notes- please read them if you are wondering about HEA's and anything like that, please read them! I also don't respond to guest reviews because my author's notes are always so long, but if you PM me, message me on Facebook (Mosaic Twenty-Three) or even Pinterest, I'll respond! I respond to every single review from an account too!_**

 ** _Find me on Facebook and Pinterest (/mosaic23/)_**


	5. Chapter 5

_Bravado- Lorde_

The police weren't really interested in my account of the shooting, not when they had Taylor the SEAL breaking down the events in military time and proper terminology. Ethan and I were dismissed as civilians who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and were free to go. We quickly headed to his suite before Katherine could follow us.

"Jesus," I breathed once we were in the safety of the elevator. "Prescott did well."

Ethan nodded solemnly. "I told my father Rodriguez was still a problem for you, so he got Prescott to help."

"You told your father?" I exclaimed angrily. "Fuck, Ethan. Why not just tell him I can't do my job anymore?"

"It's okay. He knows you had one chance to get to the target. He was the one who asked if Rodriguez was still a problem. Don't worry, I took care of it," he said.

"If you took care of it, then why was Katherine there?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms across my chest.

"I didn't ask. Her reaction made it pretty obvious, don't you think?" he said. "I hate her, Princess, but she's still my sister."

I pressed my lips into a line. Ethan was right. We had to try and talk to her before we went to Eamon. If she was that close to Rodriguez, as her reaction made it seem, there were only two possibilities of what could happen. We could convince her to work for her father or she would find out her father ordered the hit on the man she was in love with.

"Why didn't you tell me what you heard?" Ethan asked gently, reminding me that I was still keeping a lot of information from him. "We could have used that to our advantage."

I shrugged, feeling calmer, more numb. "I was freaking out, Ethan. I don't know if you forgot, but that woman was the first civilian I have ever killed."

He nodded, smiling sadly. "It's fine, Princess. We figured it out. The bodyguard might be an issue though. He's very fascinated and interested in all of this."

I nodded. "That's the ex-Navy SEAL in him. Jason Taylor. You might want to do a background check on him, just so you're up to date."

Ethan snorted. "Can't I just read yours?"

I frowned. "Get your own intelligence!"

I stormed out the room, furious that Ethan seemed to think that were were going to work on this target together, like old times. Idiot. Sighing, I knew I was relying on him a little too much, and by inviting him to the ill-fated photoshoot, he was probably getting the impression that I really did want to work with him.

Sighing I sat down on the edge of the bed, my hands shaking. I clenched my fists closed in an attempt to get the shaking under control. Taking a deep breathe, I focused on something else. A happy memory.

 _"_ _Now Annie, what's the first thing you do when you pick up a gun?" Raymond Steele asked me, his blue eyes sparkling._

 _The air was damp and cold, a typical day in Washington. There was a row of glass bottles sitting along the top of the fence across the field._

 _I grinned up at him. "Before you even pick up the gun you have to make sure that you know your surroundings."_

 _His eye crinkled as he smiled. "Good girl."_

 _He handed me the small gun. I took it in my hand, feeling the heavy weight of the metal._

 _"_ _What next?"_

 _Holding the gun so that it was pointed at the ground, away from our feet, I looked back up at Daddy._

 _"_ _You have to check and see if the gun is loaded."_

 _"_ _And check that the safety is on first."_

 _I ran through the checks, and I could tell it was loaded by the weight._

 _"_ _Ready?" he asked, standing behind me and helping me aim at one of the bottles. "I'm going to let go now. Don't forget about the recoil!"_

 _I took a deep breath and popped the safety off, steadying myself. I squeezed the trigger slowly, not a sudden pull. Through my earplugs and headphones I heard the faint shatter of glass. I quickly put the safety back on the gun and removed the clip, before taking off my glasses and jumping into Ray's arms._

 _"_ _I hit it, Daddy! I hit it!" I exclaimed happily as he laughed, his eyes twinkling with pride._

 _I heard another gunshot and it sounded close._

I quickly tried to pull myself out of the rest of that memory. I didn't want to think about the last time I saw my father. I didn't want to think about what twelve-year-old me saw just after celebrating the first time I made a perfect shot by myself.

A sharp knock at the door startled me out of my memories. Sighing, I stood and pulled the door to the rest of the suite open, only to find myself face to face with a concerned-looking Christian.

"What are you doing here?" I asked softly, making no move to let him inside the room.

He pressed his lips into a line before answering, his eyes dark with some unknown emotion. Hostility was rolling off of his tense shoulders. "Mr. Kavanaugh let me in. May I come in?"

I let my arm drop from the opposite side of doorway, letting him pass me into the opulent room. He remained standing as I closed the door and faced him.

"What can I do for you, Christian?" I asked, watching him carefully, keeping my hands out of sight and tucked into the back pockets of my jeans.

"You owe me an explanation for failing to show up to dinner," he said evenly.

 _Oh shit, I completely forgot._

I bit my lip, and broke eye contact. "I'm sorry, Christian."

He frowned. "You're sorry?"

I was confused. "I completely forgot. Not that you are forgettable, of course, but I wrapped up in something else at the time. It completely slipped my mind."

"Oh," he said, looking slightly mollified by my explanation. "I, um, thought you blew me off because you weren't interested. I waited outside for thirty minutes."

I smiled softly at him. "I'm more than interested, Christian."

He smiled, relaxing. It was a genuine smile that lit up his entire face, his eye crinkling around the edges. God, he was gorgeous. His smile faded. "Are you alright, after what happened earlier?"

I nodded. "I'm okay. It was a little shocking, but it's not the first time I've seen someone get killed."

Christian nodded solemnly. "I can't imagine what sort of horrors you've had to witness, Anastasia."

I shrugged. "Someone has to see them. Otherwise the world would never know about some of the atrocities monsters commit."

Christian nodded. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thank you for checking in, Christian," I said, smiling. "Since I seem owe you a date, why don't we go and grab something to eat."

"Right now?" he asked, looking slightly unsure.

I smiled. "Right now."

"Okay," he said, trying to hide a grin that was threatening to show on his face. He was trying to play it cool and it made me laugh internally. I grabbed my jacket and when Christian pulled out his phone, I slipped a gun in the waistband of my jeans and quickly shoved my knife into my boot.

"Ready?" I asked, leading him out of the room. "I know this great taco place. I hope you like Mexican food!"

I heard him chuckle and then cough to disguise it. Christian followed me, but quickly pushed the button in the elevator to the garage. I frowned and pushed the button to the lobby. "Where do you think your going?"

"Taylor will drive us," he said firmly. I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, since I owe you a date, it's my job to provide transportation," I said, biting back a laugh at his incredulous expression.

He paused for a moment, getting ready to argue, but thought better of it. "I'll let Taylor know."

We exited the elevator and Christian quickly pulled on sunglasses as I grabbed an umbrella from the stand.

"So how are we getting there?" he asked, looking expectantly at the line of taxis waiting outside of the hotel. I grinned.

"We're walking," I said, opening up the umbrella and handing it to him. He took it, looking slightly concerned as he glanced at the rain. "Welcome to my world, Christian."

We spent the walk in a comfortable silence, listening to the rain roar down on the material of the umbrella. It was hard to hold a conversation without yelling over the noise. I stole glances at him throughout the walk, but it was hard to know what he was thinking as his eyes were shielded by a pair of black Ray Bans.

"Here we are," I said, stopping and grabbing Christian's elbow to stop him. I pulled him towards the taco stand, thankful that it wasn't closed.

"We're eating here?" he asked, looking very nervous as he looked at the converted food truck and makeshift outside eating area, covered by a wooden structure. It was set up between two buildings, but the Christmas lights the owners had hung up gave it a certain level of ambiance.

"Do you like fish?" I asked, ignoring his nerves. He nodded and pulled him towards the window of the food truck.

I quickly ordered fish tacos for both of us, a beer for him, and a diet coke for me. We strolled back to one of the picnic benches and sat down. There were no other patrons, considering it was just after the lunchtime rush and raining, giving us a bit of privacy.

"You speak Spanish?" he asked, referring to my ability to order and converse with the owners.

I nodded. "It's part of my job."

"Do you speak any other languages?" he asked, seemingly impressed.

"I speak French and Italian pretty well, and my Arabic and Mandarin is good enough so that I could survive. I'm trying to learn Japanese right now," I said.

"That's very impressive," he said. "I didn't realize it was necessary for photojournalists to know as many languages as possible too."

"It helps me connect with people. Usually the guides speak relatively good English, but speaking through a translator is cold and impersonal, especially in other cultures. Being able to speak to people face to face, no matter how much I struggle with the language always shows them that I'm making an attempt to understand their culture or their situation. It shows I'm not some rich, white reporter intruding on their lives," I explained. It wasn't a total lie. When I needed to get information or gather intelligence, getting to know the locals was the best way to get the lay of land.

"I might have to have a talk with my international department, assuming the same principles would be true for business," he said, taking a sip of his Corona.

We were interrupted when they brought us our baskets of tacos and I saw Christian's eyes widen. I knew it wasn't what he expected.

"You've obviously never eaten food from a gourmet food truck before, right?" I teased, taking bite of my first taco.

He shook his head, chewing quickly. "This is amazing! I'll have to bring my little sister here!"

I grinned. "Is she your only sibling?"

"I have an older brother too," he said. Pausing briefly, he continued. "We were all adopted."

I knew a lot about his life, but if I wanted to get close to him, I needed to make sure that he told me about himself on his terms.

"Forgive me if I'm prying, but did you biological parents pass away?" I asked.

He frowned. "I never knew my father. I watched my mother die."

I paused, unsure if I should trust him, or tell him something beyond the character I had created for myself. "I watched my father get killed."

His eyes snapped back up to mine, filled with pain. "I'm so sorry, Anastasia. How old were you?"

I took a deep breath. "I was twelve. You?"

He frowned. "Four. But I remember it like it was yesterday."

I nodded. My hands were starting to shake and Christian notices, taking both of my hands in his. Saying nothing, he held my hands until I felt calm enough to continue eating.

We continued eating, chatting about Seattle and Christian's company. He was still very hesitant to give me answers to even the small questioned that I asked, but he seemed to be trusting me just enough. I found myself enjoying the time I was spending with him.

"Listen, since I still owe you dinner, especially after breaking you arm, would you like to accompany me to a charity event?" he asked, swallowing nervously.

I decided to tease him. "What kind of event?"

"An opera, But we can dine first," he said quickly.

I smiled. "I'd love to, Christian."

He grinned. "I'll pick you up at six tomorrow evening."

I narrowed my eyes playfully. "I'm not a last minute date because another girl cancelled on you."

Christian coughed. "No, I wasn't planning on going, actually."

I smiled. "I'm teasing."

He chuckled, helping me out from behind the picnic table. We linked arms as he opened the umbrella and stepped out into the rain.

It was windy this time, and I laughed as Christian was struggling not to lose the umbrella. We were both soaked and when a sharp gust of wind caught the umbrella, Christian couldn't hold on any longer.

"Fuck!" he yelled, as we both watched it blow away. I was laughing as we ran to take cover under the awning of a building. We were both breathless as we ducked out of the rain. Christian was watching me, his grey eyes dark and feral.

"What?" I asked, as I started to wring out my dripping hair. He stepped closer and took my hands in his. Before I could register what was happening, his lips were on mine, ferocious and demanding. Shivers shot up and down my spine, and I felt arousal pool in my lower belly. Before I could remove my hands and pull Christian closer, he pulled away.

He smirked at me, suddenly cocky and arrogant. I narrowed my eyes at him as he pulled me back out into the rain and began to run to the hotel on the next block. Christian walked me into the lobby before kissing me playfully on the cheek and strolling away.

 ** _Ok, so I really like cute, unsure Christian. And since this is a very OOC/AU story, I thought I'd play with his character._**

 ** _Thank you so much for the all of the reviews, follows, favorites, and messages! I never thought that this story would be this popular and the amount of support and love is overwhelming (in a good way)!_**

 ** _Find me on Facebook: Mosaic Twenty-Three_**

 ** _Find me on Pinterest: search /mosaic23/_**

 ** _Also, I have to admit something. I did forget that Christian and Ana had a date when I wrote the chapter about her overdosing. Shhh… The way the plot is headed now is much, much better ;)_**


	6. Chapter 6

_Gold- Chet Faker_

I stared at Christian, dumbfounded as he strolled away from me. I was standing in the lobby, soaked, and still reeling from the ferocity and amount of emotion he poured into that kiss. Someone cleared their throat, and I glanced at the receptionist who was looking at the puddle I was standing in disdainfully. I painted a smile on my face and headed towards the elevators.

"Nice dinner, Princess?" Ethan asked, his tone harsh, as he typed away on his laptop. I glanced at the screen and saw lines of computer code. Ethan never wrote his own code if he could avoid it or enlist someone else to do it for him- namely me.

"Perfectly pleasant," I responded before heading into my room. I didn't want to fight with Ethan, my only ally in all of this. I had to tread carefully around him. If he believed that Christian and I were something more than target and assassin, he wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in my head as well as Christian's. Ethan's reaction did surprise me. He knew that I slept with targets all the time and even when we were together, he never reacted like this. It was making me uneasy. Sighing, I stepped out of my room.

Ethan looked up as I stood before him, still looking like a downed rat. "May I have a half bar?"

Ethan nodded and snapped a bar of Xanax in half. "That's it for tonight and tomorrow morning."

I nodded and popped it into my mouth without a second thought. Ethan watched me closely, studying my face.

"What?" I asked, meeting his intense gaze.

"You know what you're doing, right?" he said. Cutting me off before I could remind him of my kills, my sisal success, he started again. "I know you're amazing at your job, but for some reason, this feels different. The whole mess with Kate and Rodriguez, and even the way you're interacting with a target. It makes me worried."

I nodded. "Ethan, this is what I do best. Seduce and kill. I'll be fine. As for Katherine and Rodriguez, we took care of one problem, and as far as I'm concerned, it's not my job to protect Katherine. I know I agreed to talk to her, but now, I think she'll come at us with guns blazing. If she gets in my way, I will kill her. She is your father's problem, not mine."

I bit my lip as I watched Ethan's expression shift from concern to anger. "Do you have no sense of loyalty?"

"I have too much to worry about right now. I can't even take care of myself. How the hell do you expect me to be able to reach out to Kate?" I said. I knew I was playing with fire, but at this point, I didn't feel like helping Katherine. "Take care of her before I have to."

I left the room again to go and relax before I said or did something even more regrettable. I knew I was being cold, but Katherine had the potential to royally fuck everything up.

The warm shower soothed me, and I was feeling content after I stepped out of the warm spray. Sitting on the desk in my room was a bouquet of white roses. I instantly grabbed the gun off of the bathroom counter, and swept the room. I had locked my door and I knew that Ethan was the only one with the key. I approached the flowers cautiously, and saw that the envelope attached had been ripped open- the card shoved hastily back inside. Breathing a sigh of relief, I knew that Ethan had intercepted the bouquet first.

Placing the gun down, I grabbed the envelope, felling the luxurious white satin paper between my fingers. My name was written in neat cursive on the front.

 _Anastasia-_

 _Thank you for a wonderful evening. Enclosed is the formal invitation to the opera I mentioned. I will pick you up tomorrow evening at seven. I look forward to seeing you._

 _Christian_

An involuntary smile played on my lips as I read the note for the second time and glanced at the opera invitation. The roses were perfect, and for a dominant that was never seen with a woman and had famously claimed in an interview to never "do the relationship thing", Christian was doing a pretty good job of courting me so far.

I placed the roses in some water and climbed into bed, feeling relatively more content than I had in years.

The next morning, I spent entirely too long getting dressed. I needed to go out and buy a formal gown, but I knew that I needed to look the part in order to be taken seriously. Dressed in a dove grey dress and black leather jacket, I reluctantly slid my feet into a pair of stilettos and hoped that I wouldn't break my ankle. It would not make a nice addition to my already broken arm.

"Where are you off to?" Ethan asked, looking up from the rifle he was cleaning.

"I need to buy a dress," I said, and hastily making my retreat before he could question me further. I hailed a taxi outside of the hotel and before I could regret my decision I was standing outside of Neiman Marcus. Taking a deep breathe, I entered the store.

It was only thirty seconds before I remembered why I hated stores with a passion. This glamorous life I stepped into for assignments was not what I wanted. It was great, full of incredible opportunities, people, and glamour, but deep down, I longed for the cozy cabin in the middle of Washington, nothing but trees surrounding it.

I strolled around the store, heading up to the dress section. It wasn't as if I couldn't afford things in this store- I was paid extremely well by people who hired Eamon's services. I just didn't like the false pleasantries and pretense of this world.

"Excuse me, Miss," someone said. "Is there anything I can help you with today?"

I plastered a fake smile on my face. "Oh yes! I'm attending the Seattle Opera's charity show tonight, and as usual, I leave getting a dress until the very last minute."

I watched as the blonde woman took in my Chanel purse, Cartier watch, and Valentino stilettos. She smiled back at me. "Of course! Now, are you just attending the gala after or the actual show?"

I paused before replying. I knew Christian well enough. "The show as well. I believe I'll be on the red carpet."

Her eyebrows rose. "My name is Emma. Let me go and consult with my supervisor. I'll be back in a few minutes. Please make your way into the dressing room."

She directed me back out of the display area and into a small room with bright lighting and mirrors everywhere. I sat down on one of the silver settees.

 _You're making me partake in an activity I very much despise._

My phone vibrated with a response before I could put it away again.

 _Do tell, Anastasia._

 _Shopping._

I slipped my phone back into my purse, just as Emma strolled into the room carrying what looked like ten dresses.

"Hello," the brunette said, offering a hand. "My name is Caroline Acton. I'm a personal stylist."

"Anastasia," I responded, not giving her my last name. She seemed to expect it, but brushed it off with a professional smile.

"We have some options here. These aren't out on the floor yet, and they are the newest selection we have," Carline said, unzipping garment bags. "I don't think you should wear black."

Her eyes appraised me. "How comfortable are you with showing skin?"

"I don't want anything with too much cleavage. Other than a dress that would prevent me from wearing underwear, I'm okay with thigh slits and things like that," I said, groaning internally as I said it.

"This navy dress is an Elie Saab," Caroline said, hanging up the dress in the area behind curtains. I quickly stepped into it. Caroline slipped behind me, zipping it up. "You're the perfect size! I thought we would have to put in a rush tailor order."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't obsessively count carbs. I was naturally slim, made even more lithe from the intense combat training I did. When my arm wasn't broken.

I glanced at myself in the mirror and fell in love with the dress. "This is the one."

Caroline's eyebrows raised. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to try on a few others?"

"Positive. This is exactly what I want," I said. The blonde woman handed me a silver clutch and a pair of black ombre to silver stilettos. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I looked different. Beautiful even.

I left the store with a large bag and Caroline's business card. I hailed a taxi to the nearest salon and treated myself to a quick manicure and pedicure. Nothing fancy, but just enough to make my nails look presentable.

My phone vibrated.

 _I will see you at 7._

I rolled my eyes, knowing that Christian needed multiple levels of confirmation. I felt bad, considering that my own actions had caused him to start second guessing my interest. Not a good way to start a potential relationship.

Biting my lip, I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldn't resist. After all, it was my job to play games and be bold.

 _Yes sir._

I watched as three dots appeared on the screen.

 _You're playing with fire._

I smiled. The beautician let me have my hands and feet back, and I quickly left the salon. I didn't know how to respond the Christian's message without revealing what I knew. I had to play innocent.

Ethan left half a bar of Xanax on the dresser in my room. I greedily swallowed it. already pleased that my dependency seemed to be weaning off. Guilt racked me as I realized I wouldn't have done it without Ethan. It was yet another convoluted reason I had to keep him around. But I couldn't let him get too close to me again.

Sitting on my bed wrapped in one of the hotel robes and a towel, I pulled out my computer. I quickly scrubbed the name Anastasia Steele. Not that it wasn't already scrubbed and edited beyond belief, but looking over results with a fresh set of eyes always helped me catch things I missed in the past. I missed the stalking. Writing computer code and hacking into highly secure places was thrilling, but I liked the adrenaline rush of the hunt.

Shutting the laptop before I erased any trace of Anastasia Steele, which would only make people even more suspicious, I began to blow dry my hair. I had learned over time how to style my hair and do makeup relatively well, but I still liked to keep it simple. Nothing screamed classless than layers of foundation and eyeshadow.

I stepped into some red lace panties, sighing as I realized I wouldn't be able to wear a bar with the dress. The gown was gorgeous and I smiled at myself in the full length mirror. It was a shame that the wrist brace didn't match the color of the dress. Opening my bag, I found my jewelry role and sighed as I slipped a pair of diamond earrings in my ears. It was one small perk from the job. I grabbed the clutch and shoved various objects inside. The only thing I really cared about having was the fake credit card that had side that was razor sharp. It was the only weapon that would pass through security.

I glanced at myself again, giving myself mental praise that I managed to clean myself up. I'd done it so many times before, but somehow it always surprised me.

A knock at the door startled me and I frantically struggled with the zipper of the dress. Over my shoulder in the mirror I watched as Christian entered the room.

His eyes were dark and his hair was still slightly damp and curling lightly in its usual disarray. His black tux was fitted perfectly, probably made for him, showing off his stunning physique. His eyes met mine in the mirror and I felt my self involuntarily shiver.

"Anastasia," he said, his smooth voice pronouncing my name like a caress. "You look incredible."

As he stepped closer, I was painfully aware that my dress was still fully unzipped, showing off the edge of my panties. He stepped behind me, his eyes never leaving mine as I felt him pull the dress and slowly begin to drag the zipper up. One of his knuckles traced over the exposed skin before it was shut by the zip. I was struggling to remain in control of my breathing.

He stepped away suddenly and I missed the contact instantly. I turned around and allowed him to kiss my cheek in greeting. His arms lingered around my waist as one of mine rested on his shoulder.

He cleared his throat thickly. "Are you ready?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without my voice betraying me.

He clasped my good hand, escorting me out of the suite. I took a deep breathe before we stepped into the elevator. Christian was standing casually on the other side, just gazing at me. I couldn't read his guarded expression.

"What?" I asked, slightly irritated that I felt my body respond to him in ways it shouldn't. Maybe Ethan was right- maybe the lines wee getting blurred.

"You look incredible. And I am honored to have such a beautiful woman accompany me tonight," he said suavely.

I arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Well played, Mr. Grey."

His arrogant smirk made me bite my lip and I nearly laughed as I watched his eyes darken even more. So the dominant was turned on my something as simple as a lip bite.

Mercifully, the elevator doors opened, and Christian's hand instantly found the small of my back, ready to escort me to the waiting Bentley SUV. A change from the Audi I was used to.

"Mr. Grey, Miss Steele," Taylor the Seal greeted us as he pulled out into the busy Seattle traffic.

"How is your arm doing?" Christian asked, gesturing towards my brace.

"Better. Only a few more weeks of wearing it, I hope," I said. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

He nodded. "That's very encouraging."

"How's the big, bad world of mergers and acquisitions?" I asked playfully.

He smiled. "It's very lucrative. And particularly right now, I'm making a real killing."

I chuckled. "I'm glad to hear it."

We pulled to stop on an area of the road that the police had waved us to. Suddenly there were flashes and I could see the red material leading into the modern building.

"If you're uncomfortable, I can meet you inside," Christian offered. I shook my head and nodded towards the crowd.

"Let's go."

Christian slipped out first, extending a hand to me as he buttoned his tuxedo jacket with the other.

Instantly the number of flashes increased as the photographers scrambled over one and another to get a picture of us together. I couldn't make out questions as so many people were yelling. Christian hugged me into his side until we reached the main part of the carpet where we could pose for actual pictures, not ones that would cover the tabloids.

Christian leaned down slightly and whispered in my ear, his lip ever so slightly brushing my skin. "Intense, isn't it?"

By that point, I couldn't tell if it was in reference to the tension between us, or the media circus currently watching us.

 ** _It's kind of a filler, I'm sorry! But I'm back! Check my Facebook profile for an explanation if your interested in why I took an unplanned hiatus (Mosaic Twenty-Three)._**

 ** _Find me on Facebook and Pinterest (/mosaic23/)_**


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